Voice of the Plains
by Kratos Aurion
Summary: It was a year after the fall of Nergal. Angel of Death was revived. An adventure started. But not everything is as it seems, especially not their enemies. (ON HOLD)
1. Prologue

**Author's Note**: (muttering) Could've let me load it up on Thanksgiving but nooooo.....XD

Anyway, hello, fellow members and FE fans! This is my first FE fanfic...hope you like it! Oh, and warning ahead of time: There'll be lotsa OCs, OC/OC and OC/FE romances due to the demands of the plot (and lack of girls in the game -.-;;).

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**Disclaimers:** I do not own Fire Emblem or anything related to it! 'Course, my OCs belong to me, and this plot (actually, I'm not sure if I even own the plot) as well. (This is a disclaimer forall of the fanfic because I am just so darn lazy to type it up every time. o.O)

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**Voice of the Plains**

_Prologue_

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**_One Year Ago: Dragon's Gate_**

"Slow," commanded the young druid, patting the neck of his chestnut horse. He looked up at the pillar of black light coming from the castle, awed by its impressive size. He could sense a flood of quintessence escaping from there. That could mean…only one thing—

"Master Nergal has fallen," he whispered to himself, his eyes wide and fearful.

"What's going on?!" bellowed a wyvern rider, pulling up by his side. "What—?"

"They've defeated him," replied the druid promptly, pulling on the reins of his restless horse as he shouted up to the figure in the sky. "We must gather the rest of our forces. We need to head back to the Hideout! Hurry!" Without waiting for the rider's reply, he gave his horse a nudge. It broke into a gallop, and the wyvern and its grim rider followed them, flying directly over the two.

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**_Present-Day: Castle Pherae_**

"Eliwood! Congratulations on succeeding as the new lord of Pherae!" said Hector, grinning uncertainly down at his red-haired friend. The lord merely nodded, sorrowfully recollecting the memories of his valiant father who had perished a year ago as a result of Nergal's plan to bring the dragons back.

"Lord Eliwood," said Ninian quietly, putting a comforting hand on his arm. He put his own unsteady hand over hers with a faraway look in his eyes. "Your father…he died heroically, trying to save the mankind. You should be proud, not sad."

"That's right!" interjected Serra with a harassed-looking Erk being dragged along by her side. "Be proud! Besides, there's a party happening right now! If you should appear miserable, so would everyone else!"

"Can you _please_ let go of me now, Serra?" the purple-haired mage pleaded, trying to wretch his arm away, but she held on firmly, ignoring his pitiful pleas. A smile slowly appeared across Eliwood's lips, and Hector gave a hearty clap over his back.

"See? There we go! Everyone thinks so, too. Now let's get back to your succession feast!" The blue-haired lord began to head back toward the dining hall, but stopped short and looked back curiously when Eliwood turned toward the other direction.

"Where are you heading?" he asked, his blue eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"I have some business to take care of," Eliwood replied simply, giving the other a small wave. "Go on without me. I'll be right there." Before Hector could say anything else, he turned around and headed toward the room where his tactician occupied.

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"Ah. Eliwood. I've been expecting you," smiled the brown-haired lady as the new lord of Pherae entered, setting her reading book down on the table.

"Rai…" he said warmly, closing the door quietly behind him. The mere sight of this lady allowed Eliwood to reminisce on many memories—some sad, some frustrating, but most pleasant and wistful. "Why are you not at the feast?" Rai waved airily at him, grinning good-naturedly.

"I shall be departing soon," she said in her usual lively tone, getting up from her chair. The red-haired lord felt an invisible weight drop into his stomach. "My work here is done." As he watched the lady rise, different emotions swept through him—gratitude, sadness, uncertainness, and affection.

"So soon?" he asked sadly, out of genuine regret. This lady tactician…she had done so much for them—for both him and Lyn, a friend of his. Eliwood reflected a year back when she had led them successfully into defeating Nergal, the inhuman leader of the Black Fang.

"I haven't even returned half the debt I owe you, Rai." She let out a pleasant laughter.

"Debt? Eliwood, I enjoyed being your and Lyn's tactician. I enjoyed everyone's company and it gave me a chance to exercise my learning. No, it ought to be I who should be doing the thanking for granting me that kind of experience. So I thank _you_, the new lord of Pherae, from the deepest of my heart." She gave a deep curtsy, her loose brown hair spilling around her features. She straightened up and swept her shoulder-length hair out of her face, beaming at the embarrassed lord.

After a moment of comfortable silence, he opened his mouth to speak, and immediately, Rai tensed, expecting the worst. He grinned, knowing what the lady tactician was thinking.

"No, I'm not going to ask you to stay. But…for this feast…perhaps—may you stay for my feast, at least? So that you might say goodbye to everyone? They will all miss you greatly if you depart without a word." He watched as the lady considered it, and allowed another smile to spread across his lips when her head bobbed in agreement.

"I'll be right there. You go on ahead, Eliwood," she said, sweeping her cloak up as he began to retreat from the room with a reassured nod.

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**Author's** **Note**: Lots of feedback would be helpful. (heheh)

Happy Holidays! Hope you liked my present to you all! (:D)


	2. Ominous Signs

**Author's Note**: Whoa! 3 reviews! (:O) And here I was, not expecting any…

**Warning**: Again, there will be OC/OC romance and OC/FE romance later in the story. I'll do my best not to fall into the typical ranks of OC fics, but…feh. I'm just a wee little girl, after all (o.O). I will also try my best to keep the OC/FE pairing to a minimum. (one or two is the number I'm shooting for)

**Second** **Warning**: This is something I forgot to mention in the first chapter—since that I've defeated the game only two times (and don't have all the support conversations), a lot of things will be inaccurate. Please forgive me, and please feel free to correct me. Okay, now for the review replies:

Wistful-Eyes: _Well, I didn't really like the prologue BECAUSE of the whole Eliwood/Rai scene. I think it made it sort of look like that it's going to be an Eliwood/Rai pairing, when it's not going to be. (That's a real no-no.) Thanks for the compliment, though! (coming from you…hee hee. Kidding!)_

Dragon of Zhao: _Wow. You like Rai? Ha ha. I'm glad you like it so far!_

AxelWildfire000: _Thank you! Like I said before, I really don't like my prologue (or this chapter for that matter) but I'm glad that you like it. Hopefully, this chapter is better than the last!_

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**Voice of the Plains**

_Ominous Signs_

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_**A Forest Near Castle Pherae**_

Heavy breathing pierced through the thick silence of the forest. A pair of intense red eyes darted around furiously, searching for the traces of his attackers. He steered clear of an arrow that was aimed at him with extraordinary speed, and then looked about him again, desperately trying to pinpoint the locations of his enemies.

The man was Jaffar, an infamous former Black Fang assassin. The ex-Four Fangs member had been on his way to meet Eliwood in Pherae, an unknown group had ambushed him in the forest. He had been chased for about an hour now, darting this way and that through the dense woods as he dodged the deadly projectiles.

Another arrow flew at him, and he forced his weary feet to direct his body toward right. As skilled sword-wielder as he was, the numbers (if he estimated correctly) were too great for his tired self to take on alone, and besides, they were all too well hidden. Even so, he continued to search for a gap in their ranks, seeking for a chance to counterattack. So far, however, he was not very lucky. He had barely enough time to reflect on the ironic fact that the hunter now was the hunted before a Poison Arrow grazed past his arm.

"…!!" Automatically, his other hand shot toward the cut, then he brought it in front of his face. Blood. Letting out a silent curse, Jaffar groped around his pocket for an Antitoxin. But before he could apply the salve to his wound, a stray arrow pierced the bag and all the contents were spilled onto the ground, with zero chance of recovery. As he stared at the expanding dark spot in disbelief, a vaguely familiar voice boomed out at him.

"Afraid for your life, Jaffar? They have softened you up a great deal, eh, old friend?" The frustrated red eyes narrowed, struggling to remember. Where had he heard this voice before…?

_Minor detail,_ he reminded himself quickly, his hands slowly creeping toward his Killing Edges. What was important now was that one of his would-be assassins (presumably the leader) had given himself away with his voice, Jaffar now knew where he remained hidden. _Strike now! This may be your only chance!_ his instincts screamed, and he was more than glad to obey it. After giving his swords a swift twirl, he silently sprinted toward the location of the voice and struck the startled figure with all his might. He felt his swords driving past the heavy armor and into the flesh, a sort of grim approval welling up inside him. After giving them a violent twist and hearing a pained yelp from his victim, he jerked the swords out and leapt back instantaneously, regaining his composure. He listened to the faint clanking of the body armor and a dull thud; apparently, the figure had gone on its knees.

"Very good," sneered the voice, its deep tone mingled with pain and surprise. "You still possess your exceptional skills, Angel of Death." The voice held a definite angry pitch, yet it seemed amused at the same time, as if enjoying this unexpected turn of events.

"How shall I exterminate you, hmm, my past comrade?" it rumbled, and Jaffar knew that the voice was toying with him, drawing his death slowly out so that he may suffer as a cost for drawing its blood. "Oh, I know—I shall kill you slowly with all the Poison Arrow at my disposal. A shame, to let a talent such as yours go to a waste, but seeing as how you are unwilling to join us—archers!—" he could hear the faint noises of the strings being pulled "—On my signal, fire with no mercy!"

_No…no!_ thought Jaffar frantically as he looked around for an escape route, feeling utterly desperate for the very first time in his life as he faced a certain death. Many thoughts raced through him—but a single thought dominated over them all. He had promised to the both of them that he would defend her. But now…

"Aim to kill, for him and his stubbornness are no use for us! Archers, ready your Poison Bows!"

_I have failed…to protect you, Nino._

He heard at least thirty bows preparing to shoot. He was doomed to failure.

A wave of despair washed over him as he ceased to look for a way to escape, knowing that there was none.

"My old friend…how do you feel, knowing that you are about to die, right this minute?" A cold laughter. At first, Jaffar felt resentment at the mocking words, then oddly enough, a sense of calmness swept through him as his fingers brushed against his two Killing Edges. And followed by—foolish and useless, he knew, but—hope, a tiny flicker of optimism that he would see her again. He didn't know why, especially when the situation was so…_hopeless,_ but…he could fight once more. That tiny shred of hope brought his warrior spirit back.

"On my signal!" There was a brief pause, as if they, along with the Voice, were savoring this moment.

"Do your worst!" he shouted finally, grown tired of waiting in the nerve-wrecking silence.

"Oh, I will," came a low chuckle, and Jaffar gathered up what little strength he had left, forming his body into a combat position. He was born a warrior, and he would perish as one. He will not give up!

"…Fire."

Arrows flew—too many! The air was filled with the sounds of the deadly missiles rushing by, yet he did not panic as he swung his swords around, stopping all of them before they could get to him.

"For someone who had been chased for an hour," the deep voice commented, too quiet for the preoccupied assassin to hear, "he has a great deal of strength left in him."

Before long, his blocks began to slow down, his fatigue at last catching up to him. His hands faltered as he blocked the arrows, and a few grazed his skin. Finally, one found its target and was now protruding from his left upper arm.

"…" He did not stop to pull it out, for there were still countless Poison Arrows aimed at him. Despite the fact that he was concentrating on his defenses with all his being, his hands were wavering severely and his body staggered dangerously as exhaustion began to take over him. Drowsiness reached toward him and he bit his lips forcefully in a useless attempt to hold it back.

_I cannot…collapse now…_he thought despairingly, frustrated with himself, with five more arrows piercing his right arm and thighs.

_No!_ he screamed inside his head as another arrow struck at his right arm. His hands shook pathetically, and he dropped the two Killing Edges in his hands, his head swimming in darkness. His half-asleep brain barely registered the dull pain throughout his body as every arrow now struck its target without a fail. His vision flickered on and off treacherously as he bled profusely—his whole body was drowning in pain—dying! His poisoned mind tried to force his body to pick up the swords again, but another arrow pierced his arm, immobilizing him temporarily from the shock.

A complete and total fog of darkness began to swirl around him, and he could feel his mind slipping from his grip. He fell on to his knees…to his fours…he collapsed onto the ground.

_This is…the end…_

He thought that he had heard a soft, gentle sigh, like that of a child, before he lost consciousness completely.

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"…Is he dead?" A throwaway tone. The deep voice that taunted Jaffar.

"Let me check," said an archer. Torchlight suddenly filled the forest, and when the blinding glare was replaced by a gentle, even glow, the owner of the previous voice was revealed as an unusually young general. Blood trickled down his right hand that clutched at the scarlet opening of his chest plate, yet his expression remained unperturbed. His other hand rested on his bent knees, his blue eyes indifferent as he watched the soldier approach Jaffar's still body with a torch held above his head.

"He's still breathing," he declared, stepping back and looking at him as though waiting for his orders. The youthful general snorted, wiping his dripping hand with a cloth and pressing a new one against his broken armor, still kneeling.

"Fool. Won't go so easily, eh?" _A determined fellow, even in the face of death._

"What…shall we do, General?" the other inquired nervously, eyeing the body fearfully as if Jaffar would spring up any second and slash his throat. Even though the Black Fang was long since gone, its most infamous assassin, the Angel of Death's reputation lived on.

"We leave him here," he replied simply, his blue armor faintly clanking as he stood up. "We are pressed for time; there is no one around for a while, and on top of that, he is badly poisoned and wounded. It is a matter of time before he dies either from poisoning or from loss of blood. We will retreat immediately."

"Yes General," the subordinate said obediently, and then departed to round up the rest, leaving the brunette man with blue eyes to gaze thoughtfully into the depths of the forest.

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"Rather late, aren't you, Eliwood?" said a smiling girl with teal hair as he seated himself between her and Hector, at the head of the table. "Where's Rai?"

"I hope she's coming soon; I'm famished!" complained Hector, staring down at his empty plate wistfully. The girl rolled her blue-green eyes, then caught the red-haired lord's own and grinned.

"I was late because I was trying to convince her to come, Lyn. She almost left without telling anyone," Eliwood explained, pulling his chair closer against the long table. "She should arrive soon." Barely after the last words were out of his mouth, the doors to the ding hall, and there stood Rai adorned in a white dress—first time he had seen her wearing one.

"Rai," he called, indicating at the seat next to Lyn. "Over here." As she strode over to him, she shook hands with everyone that was seated around the long, rectangular table and exchanged warm words of greeting.

"You're finally here," Lyn said cheerfully as the tactician sat down in her seat. "I was afraid that you would slip out without telling anyone."

"I was going to," Rai replied matter-of-factly as she settled down. "But he won in the end." She nodded her toward Eliwood, who merely smiled at her before standing up to make an announcement.

"As you probably noticed, Lady Rai has finally joined us. So let the feast begin!" He sat back down as servants hurried to the kitchen to bring out the food. As they were laid out onto the table, the sounds of people chattering, eating, and laughing filled the dinner hall. The banquet was full of life, with every person enjoying themselves and others' companies, a number of them seeing each other for the first time in a year.

Eliwood glanced around at each individual in the hall. Lyn and Rai were deep in discussion; even though they were close by, he could not hear their low murmurs. Serra and Erk were bickering loudly—big surprise. Lucius and Priscilla were speaking quietly, most likely about her wandering brother and their worries for him. Oswin and Marcus were huddled together, talking about…whatever they usually talked about. Matthew and Heath were chatting rather formally, with the wyvern rider glancing at a certain red-haired troubadour every so often. Florina, Nils, and Ninian sat, not too far from himself, discussing matters that obviously did not concern him. Isadora and Harken couldn't keep their eyes off each other, and Fiora and Farina argued rather noisily. Wil conversed with Canas; Dorcas, Natalie, and Merlinus were making a friendly conversation at the other end of the table. Lord Pent and Lady Louise were gazing lovingly into each other's eyes, exchanging affectionate words, while Sain gagged silently to the right of them and Kent glaring at him disapprovingly. Everyone that Eliwood could contact was here…yet something was amiss. He casually glanced around the room once more, and when his eyes rested on Marcus again, a sudden realization came to his mind, along with a faint sense of dread.

"Lowen has not arrived yet," he said anxiously to Hector, who had barely managed to tear his attention away from his lovely plate of steaming food. "He was supposed to escort Nino here…I wonder what's delaying him."

"You worry too much, Eliwood," Hector said sagely after a gulp of wine, wiping at the corners of his mouth with a napkin. "Stop worrying so much; he's one of your best knights. I'm sure he'll be here soon." The redhead nodded, pushing his seemingly groundless fears aside.

"You're right. I should stop worrying." Hector was right, of course. Lowen was an excellent knight. There was nothing to worry about. After all, Nino had gone to a nearby city and he was merely accompanying her back here.

But why did he still have a lingering feeling that something was terribly wrong…?

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**Author's** **Note**: Darnnit! The QuickEdit thing won't let me insert thegray line...oh well.R & R!


	3. Fortunate Discoveries

**Author's Note**: Oh wow. Nine reviews. This is the most I've gotten so far. I'm both nervous and excited that people like my story. Eep...hopefully I don't mess things up in this chapter!

Douceur: _Thank you!_

Wistful-Eyes: _Haha, that's sort of how I picture Jaffar: Emotionless. Not around Nino, of course. I love their supports! It's so hilarious! XD_

Nintendofan (x2): _Dragon of Zhao got me started on ToS (heh). Actually, I don't have a lot of supports, about 11 or so. The list for the feast was just to emphisize the absence of the knight (as Dragon of Zhao pointed out)._

Dragon of Zhao: _Glad that you finally got around to readingthe first chapter. Hope you like this one!_

Bomber the Scoto Fox: _Thank you! I do try. (doesn't mean I always get it right though, heh)_

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**Voice of the Plains**

_Fortunate Discoveries_

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**_A Forest Near Castle Pherae_**

"We are _hopelessly_ lost, aren't we, Lowen?" said Nino unhappily, glancing apprehensively around at the thick blanket of trees surrounding them, her hand glowing with Fire which provided them a bit of light. She could have sworn that she had seen that grizzled old tree before—at least fifteen times!

"D-Don't be silly, Nino," said the lime-green haired cavalier quickly. His grip on the reins of his horse grew firmer as he gave the girl sitting in front of him a stiff pat on her shoulder. "I...just...don't know where we are.

"Nevertheless, I'm sure we can find our way to the castle soon," he said hastily, having watched her face fall considerably. As she let out a sad sigh, a gentle evening breeze passed by them. Suddenly, the horse neighed restlessly.

'What's wrong, boy?" said Lowen promptly, stroking its muscular neck. It pawed at the ground impatiently, throwing its beautiful chestnut head back. It whinnied toward a certain direction and took a few halting steps back, rolling its eyes uneasily.

"What's wrong with it, Lowen?" she inquired curiously, surprised by the horse's sudden discomfort. He strained to see past the trees, where his horse had whinnied at, only noticing darkness, darkness, more darkness and a weak, sweet odor.

"I-I don't know for sure," he admitted, deciding that the light Fire provided them with was not enough to see what was lurking behind all the plant life. However, judging by the horse's action, there was something bad up ahead. "But I think there's something over there, like a wild beast or something. Let's go check." When there were no protests coming from the girl, he cautiously led the fidgeting beast toward the cause of its distress, his one hand determinedly hanging onto the rein and his other hand clutching a Steel Sword.

The scent grew stronger, now a sickly sweet smell, and as the horse grew more nervous as they pressed on, so did it. Feeling his stomach churn warningly, he tried to remember where he had smelled it before, for it seemed frustratingly familiar.

_I can't remember...but I'm sure I've come in contact with something like this before,_ he thought, slowing down as Nino showed signs of wanting to hurl.

"What…is this smell?" she said weakly, pressing a cloth to her mouth to prevent herself from puking everywhere. He shook his head grimly, growing maddeningly irritated as he tried to put his finger on it. So strong now...and so familiar. What was this smell? And where was it coming from?

Nino abruptly snapped her head up, startling him. "Blood. I remember this! This is smell of blood! Lowen, someone is hurt!! Hurry!"

"But if we can smell it," he protested, not wanting to put either of them in danger (and also wanting to get to the feast as soon as possible!), "wouldn't that person be dead by now? From the loss of blood?" Yes! He remembered now; that gruesome, disgustingly sweet scent that he had inhaled in so many times on battlefield. How in the name of St. Elimine could he have forgotten?

"They might still be alive," she argued, almost hysterically. She had a vague sense of intuition that this person was—or would be—very important to her. She couldn't lose them like this, without a struggle! "Oh Lowen, please, let's just try!" He looked down at her, his expression skeptical. Judging by the scent, whoever it was had lost much blood...there was almost no hope that the two can save them. In addition, there also might be the attackers still lingering around, which would position Nino and himself in grave danger.

"Please. As a knight, isn't it your duty to save other people? Plus—" she begged, rummaging her sack for something and placing it in front of his face. "There. I have a Mend. You are an excellent cavalier, and I also have a healing staff in my possession. I'll help you anyway I can—please, Lowen!"

She looked up at him, her expression a mixture of sadness and pleading.

Apprently, the food must wait.

"...Alright, I give in," he said, defeated.As her grin spread, he gripped at his Steel Sword tightly, and began to follow the scent. "But if we get into trouble for this, you will have to take the blame!" He had, of course, been joking, but she nodded solemnly, getting her staff ready in her left hand and the other holding Fire.

"It was a jest," he said incredulously, smiling nonetheless as they rode toward the unknown.

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**_Twenty Minutes Later_**

"Lowen, your sense of directions are even worse than Sir Wallace's!" Nino said frantically as they passed by the same spot that they had bypassed barely two minutes ago. "We have already passed that stump five times already!" The lime-green haired cavalier let out a frustrated noise between a whimper and a growl.

"Let's stop for a second," he said, stopping and dismounting his horse. Despite her objections, he sat down on the stump dejectedly. He could not even find his way around a forest near his home at night. Feeling as a failure at being a knight, he moped by himself, staring miserably down at the ground.

Noticing his unhappiness, she spoke to him bracingly. "It's not your fault. I'm sure you'll get better at seeing in the dark if you train more." He let out a scowl, an uncharacteristic thing for him.

"It is easy for you to say. You're a high-and-mighty mage," he snapped and then looked down at the forest floor shamefully. A brief look of hurt had crossed her face, making him feel even worse than he already did, if possible. "My—my apologies, Nino. I did not mean to yell at you. I was just so...frustrated with myself…" She smiled in her cheerful way then nodded wordlessly and fell into a lapse of thoughtful silence. Thinking himself utterly useless, Lowen kicked angrily at the ground. His foot caught on something rather like a long piece of wood, which flung a few feet away from him.

"...?" Out of a vague suspicion, he reached out and picked it up. He sniffed it once and recoiled—burnt wood. Could it be? It was too hard to believe, yet...

"Nino, I found a Torch!" he said excitedly, springing up from the stump. Yes! What luck! "We can use it to find our way around here!"

"Yaaay!" she squealed gleefully, jumping up and down like the child she was. When he held out a hand to help her up the horse, she abruptly stopped bouncing and got on. As he got on, he lit the Torch, then blinked a couple of times to adjust to the sudden glare. Once he had, he frantically looked around, hoping for any signs of the gravely injured one.

While Lowen's eyes darted around wildly, Nino gazed around her surroundings calmly, drinking in every detail in an effort to find the poor creature. Her gaze rested on a small clearing directly ahead of them, and she caught a sight of something lying there. She squinted, trying to see it more clearly. Details rushed into her brain—spiky rust-red hair, gray cloak, sleeveless shirt, wide pants, twin sheaths...

_Could it be?_ She let out a loud gasp and took a second look. _It...it can't be!_ her mind cried, not wanting to believe it. Yet everything was right in front of her—_But it couldn't be...it mustn't be!!_

Letting out a stifled sob, she leapt from the horse and dashed toward the crumpled figure.

"_Jaffar_!!"

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"Lowen's awfully late," worried Eliwood, barely touching his food. Even Hector wore a concerned look now.

"He is," the burly man with blue-hair agreed restlessly, then stood up, gathering his cloak. "I'm going with Oswin to see what happened to that rogue of a knight." He had barely taken three steps when the doors flung open, and a wild-looking Lowen stumbled in, carrying a bloody person in his arms. The dining hall fell into a complete silence, and every pairs of eyes directed toward him. He seemed speechless, breathing heavily as he staggered toward the table, his lips moving crazily in a muted explanation. Everyone was bewildered until Nino ran in, sobbing and clutching two bloody Killing Edges.

"It's Jaffar!" she cried, crystal tears spilling forth from her clear blue eyes. "He's hurt!!" 'Hurt' was not the right word for it, judging by his appearance. His bloodstained clothes were ripped and torn in most places, and there were deep wounds, most of them disturbingly green and twisted in appearance. There were no visible signs of life from him, not even the rise and fall of his torso to confirm that he was still breathing.

Lyn let out a silent scream and covered her mouth, her eyes wide and horrified at the sight of the wounded assassin. Eliwood's face contorted into confusion, then comprehension replaced it. He sprang up from his chair, then gave orders to the healers present.

"Serra and Priscilla! Tend to his injuries! Quickly!!" The two immediately bounded from their seats and rushed toward the lifeless figure, now lying on the reddened marble floor. They got out their Antitoxins and Elixirs and started to apply the healing salves to his injuries as quickly as possible. They worked in piercing silence, with everyone's eyes fixed intently on the two. Not one dared to utter a single word, but sat or stood in rapt attention, as if enchanted by their dexterous movements.

"Eeeek!!" cried the pink-haired cleric, stepping back in horror when they had removed Jaffar's torn, blood-caked shirt to apply more Antitoxin. Priscilla shrunk back as well, her whitened face a sharp contrast against her crimson hair, but no words came out of her mouth as she stared at the particularly distorted arrow wounds on his tanned chest.

"We'll be lucky if he lived for _three_ minutes after receiving _these_ gashes!" Serra said uncertainly, twirling a lock of her pink hair anxiously as she looked down at him. Cautiously, she put her ear to his left-side chest and listened carefully. After what seemed like an eternity to others, she lifted her head up, frowning.

Eliwood, who had his face in his hands in deep thought, inspected her piercingly as she straightened up. "Is he...alive?"

"There is a _heartbeat_..." There was a round of relieved sighs from everyone at the cleric's words. "However, it is very faint. I'm not sure if he'll make it."

"I-I'm sorry, it's all m-my fault," Nino sobbed, hot tears streaming down her face. "I-I tried to use my M-mend, but I couldn't c-concentrate..." She buried her face against Lyn, who was holding the little one close. The Sacaen noblewoman's blue-green eyes were looking as though on the verge of tears at the sight of the girl's heartbreaking distress.

"It is not your fault," Eliwood said gently, looking kindly at her. "You were distressed greatly. It is natural that you panicked." Nino smiled a little, regaining a bit of her former self, but her expression promptly reverted back to that of sorrow.

"Move him to a bed," he directed the servants, who nodded in understanding as they advanced toward the figure. "Transport him as gently as you can. He is terribly wounded." Once the unmoving assassin was carried out, a thick curtain of troubled silence fell over all.

"What...what do we do now?" the green-haired girl whispered, piercing the grim stillness. She glanced uncertainly about at everyone. It was Priscilla who spoke up, speaking for the first time Lowen had arrived with his load.

"We have tried our best, but he was badly poisoned and he's lost so _much_ blood..." she said in hushed tones. "All we can do now is wait and hope for a miracle...St. Elimine, help us." At the whispered last sentence, every person bowed their heads, murmuring their own prayers.

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**Author's Note**: Dum dum dum...Jaffar is alive, but barely. A rather crummy cliffhanger, I realize, but I tried putting the Jaffar-gets-dragged-to-Pherae scene on the next chapter, and it didn't work. Plus, it makes chapter two nice and longer...hopefully.

R&R, please!


	4. Words of the Wounded

**Author's Note**: (has a seizure) o.o People actually _like_ my story?!! (clutches at heart) Dear St. Elimine, don't let this be a dream! (haha!). Oh, and for the next month, my updates will be extremely slow because of the dislocated finger that I have. Sorry! We were playing touch rugby in P.E. and…yeah. Okay, enough of my rambling; now for review responses!

Nintendofan: _Wait…did it say 11?? It's supposed to say 11 percent…oh yeah, I forgot about the QuickEdit thingy…sorry for the confusion! _

Dragon of Zhao: _Yup. For the chapter, anyway. And yeah, I'll send you a picture of him. Buahahahaha!!! (imitating General Wallace)_

XxMastaFreakxX (x2): _Thank you! Oh wow. You want to play again because of this fic? I feel…special! _

Golden Emblem: _Thank you! You're too generous…(hangs head in shame)_

Douceur: _Thank you! You people are seriously too kind…there are FE fics out there that are waaay better than mine. Go read Crossroads of the Heart by Lzn64. It's very, very good. Or…never mind. You're already reading it. Haha! Silly me…but in case you haven't, Two Angels by TheOneAndOnlyT's also very good. I'm guessing you're already reading that as well, however…_

Sessh: _I try to update every week or so…If I had my way, I'd update it every other day, but…I just can't write that fast (especially not now). I wish I could, but my brain is usually on strike whenever I sit down to type…_

Axel: _Good to hear from you again! Ah…I don't think I was really fair with Lowen, but then again, I don't like him too much…I think his supports are hilarious, though, for some strange reason…_

Wistful-Eyes: _Um…I do try to make my chapters longer, but somehow can't seem to get them be over 5 pages long. Don't worry; upcoming chapters (as in 5, 6, etc) will be longer…hopefully._

Nightwaler: _Thank you; I have a link to all the conversations (Thank you, TheOneAndOnlyT!!) and yes, I did have Harken. He's one of my favorite characters._

Bomber the Scoto Fox: _Thank you! While Lowen isn't one of me favorite characters, he was essential for this chapter…_

---

**Voice of the Plains**

_Words of the Wounded_

---

_**Midnight**_

A ray of silvery moonlight shone though the window, down on a redheaded man's face. It illuminated them with a glow that gave his features a near-angelic impression. He was resting upon a bed, with a white sheet covering up to his chin. There was a chair by the bed, occupied a teal-haired Sacaen noblewoman. Unexpectedly, the man's eyes fluttered open and blinked rapidly several times in the complete silence that loomed over him.

"W-water," he croaked hoarsely as he attempted to straighten up and failing miserably. The faint thud of the man's body dropping down startled the woman into consciousness, and she looked at the man inquiringly, rather numb from being awakened just a second ago.

"Water," he tried again, this time speaking interpretably. She immediately sprung from her chair and hurried to the table to where the water jug was. He watched mutely as she poured a cup, and then brought it to him swiftly. As she put the mug to his lips, he closed his eyes and drank appreciatively.

"More," he said breathlessly once he had emptied it. She fetched him another, and he drank that down hastily as well. Content, he tried to sit up, but she gently pushed him back down again.

"You have not yet recovered from your injuries, Jaffar," she whispered, looking down at him with an enormously relieved expression. "I'll go get something warm for you to drink."

"N-no," he rasped, causing her to turn around and stare at him curiously. His voice sounded strange and foreign to him from not having used it frequently, if at all. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I must speak to Eli—" he faltered, for he was not sure how he should address the redheaded lord "—Lord Eliwood."

"Surely it can wait," she said with her hand on the doorknob, about to depart for the kitchens. "You're not yet strong enough. Everyone was so worried about you, arriving the way you did—"

"Ly—Lady Lyndis, this is a pressing matter. It concerns Nino's safety," he cut her off urgently, trying to sit up once more. "I must speak with him _now_." He waited in impatient silence as Lyn considered it.

"Very well. I'll go fetch him," she said finally, reaching for a soup bowl. "But you must promise me that you will not move while I retrieve him." She observed him with a stern look as he nodded slowly. With a reassured sigh, she left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Alone with his thoughts, Jaffar began to ponder on the day's events as he lay on the bed. He came out of his hiding place with the Castle Pherae as the destination of his journey. An unknown group had ambushed him on the way, which almost had been the end of him. He strained to remember the details…archers…Poison Bows…the voice…The voice! He recalled the deep, resonant voice that sounded throughout the forest, the one that ordered the archers to attack. So familiar; he was sure (now that his mind was clear) that this person, too, had been a part of the Black Fang…yet he could not evoke who the voice belonged to. Any other person might have thought him strange, for he could not remember his former comrades that he had worked with—yet with him, it made perfect sense. Back when he was a part of the Black Fang, his single goal in life was to carry out missions. No friends, no rest, no pleasure. His sole existence was for assignments; his concentration focused only on tasks. He had no time for foolishness such as socializing.

_I'm certain that I know the person—but who could it be?_

His thoughts were interrupted when there was a subtle knock on the door. As he fumbled for a usable weapon, it swung open and two figures walked in. Seeing that it was Lyn returning with Eliwood (plus a nice bowl of soup), he relaxed back onto the bed.

"Jaffar, I see that you have awakened," said the lord, smiling enthusiastically as he sat on the chair near the assassin. "And…you requested for my presence?"

"Yes," the other muttered huskily, sitting up with Lyn's assistance. He paused and glanced at the lord, as if asking for a permission to go on. Eliwood gave a nod. "Former high-ranking Fang members…I've observed that they have been suspiciously active recently, particularly around Pherae."

"Pherae?" the red-haired noble echoed sharply, his eyes doubtful. "But I haven't obtained a single report about any prominent Fangs in this region…Surely I would know of this?"

"Plenty were never discovered," he replied simply, pausing to receive a spoonful of steaming stew offered by Lyn then took the bowl from her entirely. As he swallowed a mouthful, he warily watched the lord fall into an interval of reflective silence. After what seemed like an eternity to him, Eliwood let out a small sigh and spoke to him in carefully measured tones.

"I will keep Nino in the castle, until we can rid ourselves of them," he stated plainly, getting up to leave. "Thank you for notifying us." As Jaffar watched him go, a sudden vicious resentment flickered up inside him. He did not come all the way for this; he did not get himself nearly killed for her to get confined within the walls! She deserved a free, happy life, not one as a caged bird!

"You don't understand," he blurted out furiously, his hands curling into angry fists. A few worthless words were _not_ going to shield her! "_She_ will not stay locked up. _They_ will not rest until they have killed off all the traitors. She is not safe until they are all dead."

Eliwood turned toward him tiredly, a weary expression stretched across his handsome face.

"You wish for me to destroy tens of lives…in exchange for one?"

Caught off-guard by the unexpected inquiry, Jaffar froze for a split second, and then his face contorted into that of fury.

"She has endured too much already! I wish not for her to suffer for the rest of her life! I will hunt them down and kill them all myself if that's what it takes for her to exist as a normal individual!" he shouted, feeling nothing but intense loathing for this dim-witted and thoughtless lord. How dare he even _dream_ of putting Nino through that kind of torture, for her to live a life of fear and captivity?! She deserved much better, far better! "If _you_ are unwilling to do so, then _I _will complete the task myself. I _will_ _not_—"

"Jaffar, please, do calm down or Lyn will throw me out," interjected Eliwood, sitting back down again. He indicated toward the Sacaen noblewoman, who was glaring at him rather irritably for getting the injured one into such a passionate fit. Once the assassin's breaths were evenly placed, the red-haired lord addressed him once more. "I realize your concern for Nino, but do think about the consequences. If they have been never accused, then the fingers will point to me for attacking the…well…_innocents_. And—" he raised a hand to silence the other as Jaffar began to speak heatedly "—hear me out. The consequences will be dire, for no one will be safe, not even within the walls of Pherae Castle because of all the enemies I will make. However, there _is_ one thing that we can do, without all of _that_ taking place." Both Jaffar and Lyn looked up in interest at those words, curious of the course of action he would take.

"We can pursue your assailants and bring _them_ down…and I imagine that they are either connected to the disbanded Black Fang or they _are_ the former members, for why would they attack you, a refugee, if they were to be common bandits? In addition, no ordinary brigands could have done what they did to you." The assassin nodded slowly in understanding, thinking back to the attack at the forest...He had almost forgotten. He possessed one more vital information to offer this lord.

"The leader, the person who directed the attack was a former Fang member," he revealed, keen to add one more to the list of reasons on why to attack the dispersed Fangs. "Although I cannot remember yet who the voice belonged to, I recall it from the days as a Fang. That I am certain of…I can tell you no more." With that, he stopped his uncharacteristic chattering and fell back into customary silence. Eliwood nodded slowly, deep in thought.

"Thank you, Jaffar," he said, getting up to leave. "I will gather a small group to track them as soon as possible."

---

---

---

_**Next Morning**_

"_NO_!!!" echoed a young woman's shriek throughout Castle Pherae. The servants looked around curiously, wondering to whom the voice might possibly belong to. Alas, it was none other then—

"Serra, this is a _direct_ _command_ from your _lord_!!" Hector growled, his words choppy and seething with anger. Meeting the cleric's furious glare with a stubborn one of his own, he snappily repeated his order again. "Go. Back. To. Ostia. With. Oswin!!"

"I am _not_ going back!! I want to go too!" she demanded, stamping her foot indignantly. The noise rang through the throne room, where everyone watched the two apprehensively. Rai merely appeared exhausted, having grown used to the clashes between Serra and Hector, Serra and Matthew, Serra and Erk, and Serra and just about anyone. _Not again…_ "Oswin thinks that we should set out with you too, right??"

"My lord," said the knight calmly, trying to draw the two back to their senses. He ignored her question entirely from the fear of encouraging her even further. "I do protest that you should travel with Lord Eliwood when you have duties to—"

"I _said_ you are going to be in command of things until I return," Hector retorted, unwilling to let his vassal finish. "I—"

"How come poor injured Jaffar gets to go??" demanded Serra, interrupting him in his mid-sentence.

"Because," answered the blue-haired lord through gritted teeth, "he's the one only one who'll recognize them."

"What about Lord Eliwood?!"

"He is his own man, Serra!"

"Ninian? Nils?"

"That is a matter between Eliwood and them!"

"What about _Matthew_?"

"We needed a tracker, since Lyn is unable to go."

"Lucius? Priscilla?"

"Lucius and Priscilla have their own reasons—_which is none of your business_!" snapped Hector promptly as she showed signs of wanting to argue with him about it.

"What about _Rai_? How come _Rai_ gets to go, _hmm_?" said Serra triumphantly, as if she had just caught Hector's biggest blunder ever. The lord rolled his eyes exasperatedly. _When_ was this woman ever going to give _up_?

"She's the tactician!! Now will you _please_ go back to Ostia with Oswin?!"

"But my lord," Oswin said once more, his tone rather impatient and hurried this time. "You are the new head of the Lycian League; shouldn't you ought to be fulfilling your responsibilities in—"

"I am going, and you two are not! That is final!! Oswin, I order you to _drag_ her out of the throne room and back to Ostia!!" The knight looked like he had more to say, but closed his mouth with a disapproving nod and obeyed his lord. Everyone in the throne room could hear the pink-haired cleric's indignant protests all the way down the hallway and until the two were out of the palace, listening in complete silence. Once her objections were no long audible, Hector collapsed onto Eliwood's throne resignedly and rubbed his temples. _Why_ did _he_ have to get all the lame henchmen? Had he done something terrible in his previous to deserve this fate??

When he had looked up, all eyes were he, a few pitying but most desperately trying to suppress bubbling laughter.

"…What?"

---

**Author's Note**: Tee hee, poor Hector and his blood pressure. Hm…I think I'll give this chapter a 6.5 out of 10.

And may I proudly note that this is where the plot begins to set in motion? Whooo!! …Ahem.

R&R, please!

P.S. I decided to update early as a holiday treat…even though it's nowhere near Christmas…I'll try to update again on Christmas Eve, but I'm not sure if I'll be able to type the whole thing up by then, with my finger and all…


	5. Objective: Rescue Priscilla

**Voice of the Plains**

_Objective: Rescue Priscilla_

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_**Next Day**_

"_Goodbye, Eliwood. Be careful," said Lady Eleanora, waving at her departing son and his company. Escorted by Isadora, Harken, Marcus, and Lowen, she saw him off from the western gates of Castle Pherae._

"_I will, Mother. Just take care of yourself."_

"Hey, Eliwood. Eliwood! You're about to fall off your horse!!"

"Wha—ahh!" (crash)

"…Ugh…must I act as everyone's cushion?" groaned Hector, heaving his best friend off of him. Honestly, like the time when Florina the Pegasus knight had landed on him…what was he, a pile of hay?

"My apologies, Hector," Eliwood said, his cheeks tinted red as he stood up and got back onto his steed bashfully. _Mortifying…barely an hour and I'm already tumbling down._

"What were you _thinking_?" the blue-haired lord demanded, dusting himself off. He scowled and glared at the other, impatiently anticipating an answer. Eliwood's blush grew deeper as his embarrassment mounted higher.

"I…was thinking…of Mother." Hector's eyes softened, but his tone remained as cross as ever.

"It's only been an hour since we left the castle," he scolded, trudging along by his mounted friend's side. "As I've told you a hundred times before—"

"—I worry too much. I know, I know. You're right. Since Marcus and others are there, I shouldn't trouble myself about her so much, yet…"

"Lord Hector! Lord Eliwood! Make haste! You're falling behind!" came Matthews's call, who was in the lead as he traced Jaffar's attackers through the forest. They looked up to see Rai, Matthew, Lucius, Priscilla, Ninian, Nils, Erk, Nino, and Jaffar up ahead, all pausing to wait for the two.

"Coming!" Hector bellowed, then turned to his friend and grinned. "Come on! Let's go!"

---

_**Three Days Later**_

Ninian raised her crimson eyes toward the distant mountains ahead of them. Three days. For three peaceful days they have pursued the westbound tracks, traveling through the undeveloped forests deep in Lycia. Lady Rai had insisted that they travel slowly for the sake of Jaffar, who was yet to recover fully from his wounds, but they were gradually catching up to his attackers. That last fact troubled the ice dragoness—it was most likely a trap, intending to lure them for some unknown reason. Why else would a group of guilty people travel at a snail's pace? She had privately relayed her concerns to the tactician, but the lady had clearly expressed that she thought it to be a good thing; otherwise, with an injured one in their party slowing them down like so, they had no hope of ever bringing the assailants to justice. She agreed with Lady Rai…but she couldn't help the fact that there was a vexing voice at the back of her head, nagging her endlessly about it.

Her train of thoughts was broken when a gentle hand was placed upon her arm, startling her rather terribly. A mix of relief and embarrassment replaced her fright when she saw that it was an equally taken aback Lord Eliwood. Her stomach gave a small leap—he was so close to her!

"Ah…forgive me, Ninian," he said in an apologetic tone, quickly drawing his hand back (to her slight disappointment). "I did not mean to alarm you so. Rai just wanted me to alert everyone about the heavy fog rolling in." She automatically glanced at the tactician, who was at the moment speaking with Nils as she handed him a Torch, then back at the Marquess of Pherae with a slight shake of her head. When their eyes met, she immediately lost herself in his eyes, unable to look away. Those beautiful, beautiful cobalt blue orbs…if she could, she would gaze into them forever…

"Is there anything you need?" he inquired, noticing the yearning expression on her face as she looked back at him. Instantly, she turned a delicate shade of red; how rude of her to gawk at him as she had. What must he think of her now!

"N-no my lord," she stammered, twiddling her fingers timidly, her face blushing dreadfully. The concern on the gentle lord's expression grew, mistaking the tint for a flush of illness: Perhaps she had acquired a disease? That wouldn't do!

"Here. Take my arm," he said suddenly, offering her his elbow. "Your color is not well. I'm afraid that you've taken up a sickness." Ninian had a sudden flashback—the blazing, inhuman heat of the Nabata Desert, his worried look, his offer for her to lean against him…Her cheeks unexpectedly grew dangerously warm, accompanied by yet another involuntary leap of her stomach.

"But lord Eliwood…" she protested weakly, feeling rather faint at the moment. Sure they have been comrades for long, yet he still was a prince of Lycia and she a dragonkind. She still felt as though she deserved no kindness from a human, especially not from someone as noble and as fine as he. "I…I…"

"No buts, Ninian," he replied with as much sternness as he could muster then smiled down at her kindly. "I don't want you to collapse, alright? It's fine; just take my arm…there you go."

"Forgive…forgive me," she murmured inaudibly, feeling his warm body close against hers. As self-conscious as she was, she felt a ripple of happiness going through her as the two walked together in pleasant silence. _Lord Eliwood…you are the reason why I came, even though I may be just a burden to you. Selfish I know to be my request, yet…all I ask for is to be near you, always…_

---

Erk looked around, enjoying the view of the unspoiled forests of Lycia. Beautiful…he thought, remembering the busy and crowded streets within castle walls and giving an unintentional shudder. He loathed the hustle and bustle of cities; he much preferred to be alone, quietly studying ancient text on his own.

It was then his wandering eyes caught the view of the redheaded lord and the crimson-eyed dancer and quickly looked away as a fountain of envy welled up inside of him. Why…why did he feel so intensely jealous of the two just now? He had all he had ever wanted; a loving family (he liked to think of Lord Pent and Lady Louise as his parents as well as mentors), a vast collection of archives he could bury himself into (just not now; they were all back at lord Pent's castle, save for a few), a chance to gain more knowledge, comrades, food, and shelter. There was nothing that he lacked—

"Good afternoon, Erk," greeted a voice, which nearly caused him to fall backwards in surprise. He looked up at the newcomer irritably, ready to chastise him a thing or two about privacy, but the words were caught in his throat when it turned out to be Lady Priscilla.

"L-L-Lady Priscilla!!" he spluttered horribly, his face hosting quite a lovely shade of red. "Y-you startled me so!" Immediately his flush grew heavier, if possible. He did not mean to sound so accusatory—why did he always mess things up when girls were around?

"I'm sorry, Erk," she said apologetically, glancing at him in a reproachful way. He winced inwardly; he must really learn to control his tone in front of her. "I…Rai just wanted me to give you this." After cautiously pressing a Torch into his hands, she rode away to join Lucius up ahead.

…Which left him feeling extremely stupid.

_Erk, you dolt......! Hahh...There was no reason to do that_…he scolded himself crossly as he watched her depart. An empty rush of wind swept through him—why couldn't he talk to girls? How in the name of St. Elimine did that idiot of a knight managed to do it? What did that scoundrel in green armor possess that _he_ did not?

He mused alone until Nils's melody of alarm shook his senses back into him.

---

"Lord Hector!" cried the petite dragon bard, dashing up to the burly blue-haired youth. Breathlessly he forewarned the marquess of the threat that lay ahead of them. "Lord H-Hector! Danger approaches!!"

"Where? Who—ah, forget it. Raise the alarm! Play a sharp tune!"

"Yes…yes my lord!" A set of shrill flute notes frantically strung together soon sounded in their comrades' ears, quickly calling everyone back into a group. Most chattered nervously and excitedly, apprehensive of the upcoming peril. Erk, however, remained oblivious as he strode over in a would-be calm fashion.

"How now? Danger? Where?" Rai demanded acutely as Jaffar and Nino, who were lingering in the very rear, made haste to join the rest. Nils, who was still out of air, managed to gasp out a few intelligible words at the perturbed circle around him.

"Front……hidden……trees……strong…" he panted as his worried sister, Ninian, supported him. Barely as the words tumbled from of his mouth, a new voice cut in, upsetting the troop.

"Hey! Hey you! You Eliwood an' his pitiful lot?" it sounded from the frontal depths of the forest. It seemed to come from everywhere, Erk thought. He couldn't quite grasp where it was coming from.

Eliwood perked up at the tone, his eyes furrowed with uneasiness. "Who are you?" he answered, his hand upon his scabbard. The remainder equipped a weapon for each upon Rai's instruction, attentive and organized. "Show yourself!"

"Hahaha…so it _is_ you," it replied dryly with a mocking laugh. "We knew that _someone_ was after us…just not sure until now. Hahaha…."

"Who are you?" Eliwood repeated, the Rapier half-drawn. There were too many trees, making it impossible for him to locate his foe. His grip on the sword's handle tightened—no matter: He was ready!

His two Killing Edges were out and ready to strike, Jaffar inwardly frowned at the lord's unwise tactics. What was he thinking, alerting the enemy of their location? The enemy was experienced, that much he could tell; the assassin was unable to trace him. Staying silent and letting the enemy come to them would have proved a far better choice on Eliwood's part. He might as well have put up a sign that read, "Kill Me, Please". A disapproving tsk escaped him, but Nino, with her Fire tome out, was too preoccupied to have noticed.

"It's—it's our first battle since the beginning of the trip, isn't it, Jaffar? Ha…I should be used to this by now, but I'm still tense before battles…" Nino chattered, unable to hide her nervousness. She exhaled deeply as the assassin stared silently back at her, which was his version of reassurance. Her grasp on the red tome grew tighter, determination flashing in her bright sapphire eyes as she met his eyes resolutely. "I'll…I'll give my best!"

"Hahahaha!" came the voice again, cutting through the grim stillness settling in the forest. "You ask for who I am? Haha…There's no need to yell, you know…I'm right here."

Barely as the words were spoken, Priscilla let out a stunned scream. Every head turned to her direction to see a hooded assassin pressing a Steel Sword against her throat, a hand clutching at her shoulder. Lucius immediately chanted an incantation and aimed bright flashes of Lightning at him, but he evaded them all easily, still holding the lady hostage.

"Lady Priscilla!" Erk cried, flabbergasted by the assassin's astonishing speed. His hands glowed scarlet, preparing for a powerful Thunder spell. _Lady Priscilla….! Hold on!_

"Let her go!" growled Hector, brandishing his hefty Wolf Beil threateningly. "Have you no shame?! Holding a woman hostage during a fight!" The enemy guffawed enthusiastically in reply.

"Shame? Hahaha! Well, aren't _you_ a fine one to lecture me on it, you big ugly brute? Heheheheh…" The blue-haired youth's short temper flared instantly at the other's insults.

"Why you little……!!" he snarled, giving his axe a menacing swing. A big ugly _brute_?! Oooh, that great fool of a man was going to pay _dearly_ for this!! "Let's see how ugly you think _I_ am once _your_ face has been carved by my axe!"

"Hector! Peace!" Eliwood restrained his friend sharply, and then turned back toward the assassin, his tone calm and sincere. "We've no wish to fight. Just tell us what you want."

"No wish to fight?!" Hector echoed furiously, every fiber of his being itching to cleave that dim-witted head into two. What was he _talking_ about? He had every intention to fight that foolhardy ruffian! No one, and he meant NO ONE, called him a big brute and walked away alive!! "That's what _you_ think!!"

"What an interesting pair of lord…."no wish to fight"? Heheheh…." The assassin's grip on Priscilla tightened, causing her brilliant green eyes to flicker fearfully. The horse pawed at the ground nervously, upset by the presence of the stranger standing next to it. Erk was in half a mind to sprint up and punch his face, but controlled himself just barely for the sake of her safety. "Hahaha…unfortunately for you, _Noble Lord of Pherae_, that is exactly why I am here: To eliminate you lot, an' any who dares to follow us. Hahaha…But first, I want to have a little fun with you…after all, what's the fun in killing if the hunter kills his prey right away? Hahaha…meet me at the clearing ahead! Do try to stay alive, won't you? I've heard so much about you and your group…it would be a shame for my underlings to defeat you."

Myrmidons and mercenaries shot out from the woods. There were also archers perched atop trees, their strings pulled and ready to go. Using the emergence of his troops as a distraction, the assassin pulled the red-haired valkerie and himself out of their view.

The troop moved effortlessly into their positions under Rai's command, with Eliwood and Hector acting as the spearhead. The Knight Lord brandished a Steel Lance while the Great Lord donned a Steel Sword. There were more than a few protests from the blue-haired youth, but the lady tactician firmly insisted for him to wield a blade, for they could afford little mistakes. Erk and Lucius were to support them from behind, while Matthew guarded Ninian and Nils. Nino and Jaffar moved to the very end of the line, well out of the enemies' sight.

"Everyone, prepare for battle!" Eliwood shouted. "We must rescue Priscilla!"

"Thank you! Finally!" Hector exclaimed gratefully as Rai, finishing up last of her orders, moved to join Eliwood. With his sword out and set to go, he was more than ready! He was getting bored with all the quietness anyway. Now for some action!

"Hya!" cried Eliwood, neatly spearing a myrmidon heading his way. Lucius sent a Lightning bolt at him, finishing him off. Nils and Ninian busily traveled among ranks, refreshing the troops with their music and dancing. Matthew occasionally hacked at any foes that ventured too close to the siblings, his charming features contorting in concentration.

_Lady Priscilla…please hold on!!_ Erk pleaded silently, muttering the Thunder spell under his breath as the blue-haired lord continued to wipe out enemies in the front, mainly hidden archers. _It's all my fault…I should have moved quickly! St. Elimine, watch over her…_

All around the purple-haired mage heated battle raged on, particularly around Lords Eliwood and Hector, who were in the lead as they had the strongest defenses. Due to the lack of troops, his magic tome soon fell apart from nonstop usage and he was forced to fish out an additional Thunder, while Lord Hector gripped a new Steel Sword.

From the corner of his eye, he watched as Lord Eliwood's arm was cut by a successful slash on a myrmidon's part, but Lucius soon brought him down, preventing further damage. The redheaded Pheraen lord brought out a vulnerary, and wincing, applied some of its salve to his gash as an anxious Ninian monitored him. So far, no one was excessively wounded. This, at least, was a good sign…

A particularly painful arrow struck at his collarbone, and Erk doubled over in pain, gasping as he hastily selected a vulnerary of his own and spread it over the bleeding spot. _That's what I get for letting my imagination roam about like that in the midst of a fight…_he thought grimly, sorely missing Serra's healing staves.

……_Serra_?! Where in the name of sweet Elimine had _that_ came from?

_Erk, snap out of it!_ he yelled as he mentally slapped himself for the last thought. Why did he think of _Serra_, of all the people, just now?? _What in the blazes…?!_

_You really need to find better things to think about, _he chided, promptly following the blue-haired Ostian lord as his cut slowly began to mend. Now was _really_ not a good time to daydream, especially when Lady Priscilla's life was hanging by a mere thread of time.

---

Meanwhile, Jaffar and Nino still remained in the back, killing any the others have missed. The lime-green haired girl was demonstrating a rather impressive usage of Fire, while the assassin loomed over her, protecting her from any possible harm. They were too busy fighting and keeping a careful watch that they did not notice a mauve-haired Falcoknight watching them, flying high above them.

---

"Jaffar is alive," informed the Falcoknight, her pastel-pink pupils cautiously regarding the hooded assassin. He let out a silent curse, his Steel Sword barely resting against Priscilla's pale throat.

"It appears that the general did not finish him off."

"I know _that_," he spat as the red-haired lady observed the conversation apprehensively. "I can conclude that myself, thanks."

"…What do you propose that we do?"

"……" His grip on the troubadour loosened, but only slightly. "We should go back to the Master…he'll want to know about this."

The Falcoknight gave a disapproving frown. "Yes, but what about our duty in the…the wasteland?" He snorted.

"That'll have to wait. Cronan didn't finish him off, and I want the Master to know about this." His voice sounded keen and eager. She still did not back down, despite his tone.

"But…"

"Shut up," the assassin snapped savagely, causing the Falcoknight to recoil noticeably. "I say we're going back, an' that's final! Do you still have more to say?" His manner was authoritative and challenging, as if daring her to disobey him.

"……No."

"_Just_ a no?"

"No…sir."

"That's a good girl," he said smugly, satisfied by her submission, however reluctant. "Now, once they get here, we'll leave. Understood?"

"Yes sir…but shouldn't we depart soon? Time is crucial," stated the purple-haired girl, which angered the assassin yet again.

"We don't want them to think us as cowards; we are not afraid of them! We are leaving only _after_ they get here, _understood_?" he shouted arrogantly, his blade digging into Priscilla's flesh. Blood began to flow, but he seemed not to notice as he glared at the knight furiously.

"…Yes…sir." She then flew up onto the top of the nearest tree, serving as a lookout for the assassin without a further protest.

And the three waited in dangerously thin silence, not one of them moving or speaking a word.

---

"There they are," Rai sighed, relieved to see Priscilla yet among the living. The battle had been fairly short, despite the swarming number of enemy troops. Perhaps it was thanks to their training with the "Morph War", where they were driven to wage a war against Nergal and his monstrous creations.

_Lady Priscilla….still alive?_ An enormous weight was dropped from his stomach, and Erk wanted to move and greet her, but the final barrier of the assassin prevented him from doing so.

"Her life is yet her own; blest be merciful Saint Elimine!" uttered Lucius the bishop, enormously grateful for the unlikely miracle. Many heads nodded, but Hector remained grim, his thoughts seemingly matching Erk's own.

"How do we rescue her without endangering her?" he said darkly, glancing ominously at the distant outline of the assassin and Priscilla. "He would surely hurt her, or worse, should we get too close."

"We have to strike fast and hard," the tactician said fearlessly, but ended the sentence sounding not so sure. "Hmm…or maybe not. He sure was quick, from what I gather…gah…what to do…"

"In my opinion," suggested Eliwood while Rai continued to ponder meditatively, "the best course of action would be to try and negotiate with him; let him know that we don't mean him any harm."

"My apologies, Lord Eliwood, but it is a bit too late for that," Matthew pointed out, indicating at the dead bodies littered across the forest floor. "It probably won't work so well."

"But it's the best plan we've got," Rai decided, sighing dejectedly. "Alright, everyone! Lower your weapons; we're going to approach them slowly. Try and seem not too threatening," she added, throwing Hector a meaningful glance. The Ostian lord carelessly shrugged his strapping shoulders while she gave him an exasperated stare, muttering something indistinctly that suspiciously looked like "headstrong" under her breath.

---

"Here they come," said the Falcoknight suddenly, instinctively burrowing deep into the curtain of trees just beyond the clearing to avoid being seen until needed. "Their weapons are lowered…and they are marching gradually…they mean peace."

"Humph, those fools," spat the assassin, the gleaming point of his sword still against Priscilla's delicate throat. She made no movements against his grip; she merely yielded to his impulses, knowing that this was the best way to keep herself alive, by not angering him. "Trying to make belated amends, aren't we? What an idiotic bunch of lords…you could not find any worse…heheheh."

"Still, they _have_ made it this far," the knight pointed out fairly, nestling in deeper still. "We should not be so rash as to underestimate them."

"Underestimate?! _Me_?! I am the best there is, and the best there ever will be! My speed is legendary, and my skill unmatched! I am the—ah! They are close! _Shh_!" He silenced her severely, as if she had been the one making all the racket. She looked as though she would like nothing better other than to break his neck, but with a loud gulp and a clearly tremendous amount of self-restraint, remained unspeaking, preparing herself for a long break. They did not have to wait too long, however.

"Hey, you!!" soon came a powerful voice, followed by an immediate "_Hector_!".

"Yeah, you!!" yelled the one called Hector, his heavy armor clanking loudly. She tensed, preparing to take flight. They were here…as soon as he signaled…

"Let her go, fool!!"

"Hector! _What_ did I tell you?? Shush!" This one was much softer, obviously belonging to a woman. The Falcoknight smiled unexpectedly—whoever she was, she apparently had her job cut out for her, trying to manage the unruly lord.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Rai," he growled reluctantly. So _that_ was the name of the well-known tactician. Rai. She had a feeling that she should remember the name.

"Heheheh…" chuckled the assassin, trying to appear undisturbed but she knew him better—he was worried. She snorted privately. He would be an even greater fool than she thought if he wasn't. And that would be saying something. "Took you long enough…considering your reputation, I expected far better."

"Let her go," interjected a gentle voice. "We are willing to parley with you. I—"

"Well, _Lord of Pherae_, I'd _love_ to sit here an' listen to your droning, but I have things to do…places to go…people to see…" There was her cue. She lightly nudged her pegasi, and it spread its wide, beautiful wings as they rushed down. She saw the enemies' surprised faces as the assassin leapt up and caught her outstretched hand, his hand grasping hers rather painfully.

"An' it sure isn't you!" he yelled as he pulled himself up, sitting himself behind her. In an undertone he added "To the fortress" then raised his voice again, waving haughtily. "Farewell! We shall meet again!"

"Let's go! Hurry up!" he hissed, giving her steed a hard kick in the stomach. The pegasi looked back at them reproachfully, but after receiving a calm order from knight, beat its great wings and took off.

---

Hector furiously watched the Falcoknight soar out of nowhere and take off with the assassin, indignant that he could do nothing to prevent their escape. "Blast!" he exclaimed once they were well out of his sight, sheathing his sword clumsily. With an angry huff, he turned his blue eyes toward the pale lady surrounded by the group.

"Are you alright, Priscilla?" he asked, his tone still somewhat aggravated at having the foe slip through his very fingers. Blast it…he had been close, so close!

"Y-yes," she answered shakily, rubbing her neck in a disbelieving manner. It was still there; her head was yet intact. "I think so."

"Do you have any scars? How many? How deep? Do you want any vulnerary? How about an Elixir? Ah! What shall we do about that scar on your neck?" gushed the relieved tactician, bombarding the valkerie with endless questions regarding her well-being.

"I-I'm fine," she said faintly, trying in vain to calm the frantic lady. "Just a scratch is all, Rai."

"Right…" Rai replied distantly, straightening up. "Alright troop, we're camping here for the night. Set up the tents and get a fire going; it's starting to get dark. Cook some meals…gah, I miss Merlinus's dumplings right about now…" The last sentence was muttered vaguely as she strode around, looking for some firewood. Suppressing a slight smile, Priscilla looked around, only to spot Erk's deep violet eyes focused intently on her.

"Erk…?" she asked uncertainly, noticing his pained expression. "Are you alright?"

"……! Yes, milady…I…I'm just glad that you are safe is all," he replied sincerely, diverting his gaze elsewhere tensely. He appeared a bit pale, she noticed, as he shrunk back from her. "Excuse me…I must help Rai gather some firewood…" Before she could say anything to stop him, he pushed back from the circle and had disappeared from her view.

'…Erk?' she thought, considering his behavior peculiar, but gave it no more thought when Lucius made an inquiry about her condition.

---

---

---

"What a day," yawned Hector lazily, sitting by a fire positioned in center of their miniature camp. It was not as large as the ones they had built last year for thirty or forty people or so, but nevertheless, warm and cozy enough. "Great exercise." Eliwood grinned, staring absentmindedly into the flickering flame.

"Hmm. Knowing you, Hector, that probably wasn't nearly half of what you need." The Great Lord let out a cheery laughter.

"You know me too well," he chuckled, casually shrugging his shoulders to loosen the knots in his back. He then looked up at the dark night sky, gazing thoughtfully up at the blinking stars in silence. There was no one else around the fire since everyone had turned in for the night long ago except for the two. "It's getting late. I should probably get some sleep…you should too. Don't want you tired, especially if we might engage in another battle tomorrow."

"You're right…good night," the redhead replied, getting up to depart for his tent. When the blue-haired lord did not stir, he looked back at his best friend questioningly. "Coming, Hector?"

"Later," the other mumbled in reply, his eyes still locked up at the twinkling heavens. He did not shift in any way even a while after he heard Eliwood retire, wrapped up in his own thoughts. The silver moon shined peacefully down on the lone man, who sat thinking to himself for a long, long time.

---

Not too long after Lord Hector had finally managed to fall asleep, two distinguishable shadows snaked out from the forest and into the clearing, where the tents were set up. The smaller of the two paused and glanced around, checking to see whether anyone was still awake. Seeing none, it sped toward the middle of the camp, stopped, then looked back at the other and motioned for it to come closer. The bigger waddled clumsily after the smaller shadow, accidentally kicking a rock with its armored foot.

"Shh!!" cautioned the smaller, approaching the nearest tent on tiptoes. The bigger nodded irritably, and then reached out to warn the other—too late.

The smaller had stumbled into a steel container, hurtling down onto the ground with a deafening metallic crash. A split second later, the flap of the nearest tent flew open and a sleepy purple head poked out of it, peering around groggily. After what seemed like an eternity, Erk's confused violet eyes spotted the two petrified shadows, and with a yelp, hastily cast a Fire spell and hurled it at them. It lit the ground on fire briefly, and in that instant, he spotted many familiar faces; Matthew's half-asleep figure blearily tumbling out of his bed, Lord Eliwood, Lord Hector, Lady Priscilla, Lucius, Jaffar, Nino, and Ninian, all looking exactly the same as the brunette thief.

Chanting quickly, he cast another Fire spell, this time more accurately despite the alarmed shouts and screams. Both the shadows dodged it, and the fireball uselessly lit a nearby snag on fire, illuminating the area.

"Stop! _Stop_!!" yelled the smaller one of the two, its arms thrown in front of its face to shield its eyes from the glare as another fireball was launched at the shadows. "Erk, it's just me!!"

…_Erk? It knows my name?_ he thought hazily, stopping his Fire spell in mid-chant. That was when he saw a pair of pigtails, a Heal staff, and a white robe standing in front of heavy armor. He rubbed his eye vigorously to clear his mind, certain that he was seeing things.

No…it couldn't be!

His lips frantically moved, desperately trying to emit a sound, but none came out. Only when the figure drew near him anxiously could he shriek in terror. He screamed endlessly as his consciousness slipped from his fingers, the last thing to flicker across his vision being a terrifying view of two pink plaits.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!!!! Noooooooooooo!!!!"

---

**Author's** **Note** : (_A/N 1-7-05: RELOADED; Too many mistakes not to_) Took me forever to finish this…-yawn- Just got done editing. Forgive if there's any mistakes. A bit longer (actually twice as long) than usual as requested by Wistful-Eyes. Uploaded early for the holidays (will be gone for a week, starting Christmas)

…Can't forget the review responses…

Nintendofan: _Yup. She adds a lot of comedy into any kind of story she appears in, I believe._

Wistful-Eyes: _Darn right. Took me FOREVER, as I mentioned above. And yes, she is one of THOSE people. (has no idea what the heck you're talking about)_

Douceur: _:D_ _Thank you for the compliment! And Crossroads of the Heart has been updated….FINALLY!! Yay!!_

Bomber the Scoto Fox: _Thank you! I thought he seemed a bit OOC. :P_

XxMastaFreakxX: _Hello there! :D Good job, and thank you!_

AxelWildfire000: _Well, I don't use him either, but I got 'em off the link given to me by a fellow author (too lazy to type his name again XD). Heheh._

Katelynn: _Oooh, better not let Jaffar fans hear that…(By the way, I'm a Jaffar fan. Lol!!) Heheh. Thank you for your concern, and yes, Kratos is my favorite. :D_

Dragon of Zhao: _Yay! You reviewed! And yes, I will do that as soon as I can remember…(not now because I have to get off soon). Hope you like this one even better!_

R&R, please!


	6. Unexpected

**Voice of the Plains**

_Unexpected_

* * *

_**Next Morning**_

The troop marched on, having decided last night that they were to press onto Nabata Desert. Priscilla had informed Rai of the attackers' plans; the tactician assumed their enemies' mission was to fetch an artifact. After all, Nabata was a complete wasteland, save for several valuable artifacts concealed here and there. So she decided to lead them into the desert, in hopes of reuniting with Lord Pent and Lady Louise—they occupied late Archsage Athos's dwelling now—to ask the couple about what it could possibly be.

Deadly silence loomed over them all. Even cheerful Nino stayed grim and unspoken, only looking up every now and then at a particularly sweet call of a hidden songbird. No one, not even Eliwood, dared to venture next to Hector for the fear of his scorching wrath, especially after the events of last night.

"_Oswin," Hector said in a would-be calm voice. It was plain to everyone that his cool tone and the composed expression were forced. The flickering fire added to his frightening demeanor, heightening the forbidding aura within the camp. "Please explain _thoroughly_ why you two are here."_

"_Oh, it's all my fault!" offered Serra quickly, stealing a fleeting glance at her lord's twitching eyebrow. "I wanted to come, so I convinced him—"_

"Serra_," he snarled dangerously, never taking his eyes off the unflustered General. "I asked _Oswin_, not _you_. Now, my insubordinate vassal, speak!" For a split second, every pairs of eyes were focused on the orange-armored man, fearing for his wellbeing._

"_My lord," Oswin began calmly, but he was instantly cut short by Hector's vicious fit of anger. _

"_You, of all the people, were the last I expected to go against your lord's direct order! _Again_! You have broken your knightly vows a second time, you—you—Oswin! As soon as we get back to Ostia, I will strip you of your title and position! Do you hear me?! You will regret this day for the rest of your life; I will see to it that your life ends in humiliation and—"_

"_My lord!" he interjected loudly, successfully stunning the furious lord into silence. In a subdued tone he went on, his reasonable voice somewhat calming the less-than-friendly atmosphere. "Yes, I will admit to that, but this time, it is different. I would have went against my oaths once again only if had I returned to Ostia upon your command."_

"_Different?! I don't see any—"_

"_My lord," Oswin went on patiently. "Do you not remember Lord Uther's command? He ordered me to stay by your side and protect you. I swore on my honor. I am not about to break that just yet."_

"You okay?"

Hector snapped his head up. He looked down at the lady tactician who had a worried hand on his arm.

"Yeah," he mumbled grudgingly. "I suppose." She beamed.

"Good. By grace, Hector, you were making everyone nervous." He glanced around. Yes, the mood of the army was definitely down. Hmm. He didn't know that he had that strong an influence over them.

"I didn't know," he apologized honestly. "I apologize. I was just thinking things through." She nodded in understanding.

"Mm. You don't accept it now—or don't want to, whichever—but you'll see later. Oswin did what he thought was right. Meanwhile, don't treat him so harshly like last time, alright?" She regarded him with a penetrating look.

"Mmph," came the unenthusiastic reply. Rai smiled again. Stubborn as a mule he might be, he had a good heart. He was all right, really, just a bit threatening on the outside.

---

"Oh, look, Lord Hector's better now!" squealed Serra, pulling on Oswin's arm. She pointed at the blue-haired lord who now spoke with Eliwood and Rai, in a very civil-like manner, especially compared to last night. "Let's go talk to him!"

"Serra," said the exasperated General. "Not now. And please let go of my arm."

"But—"

Oswin gave her The Look. She immediately fell silent and shrank under his gaze, which was a great amazement to Erk, who was watching the exchange from some distance away. _Someone can actually restrain _her

". . .Yes, m'lord," she mumbled, and then to Erk's great horror, immediately came bouncing over to him. He tried to get away—too late. She had a firm grip on his arm.

"Hi, Erk!!! Feeling better now? I can't believe you actually _fainted_ last night!!" she screeched into his ear. Ow.

"It's kind of hard not to," he retorted, "especially if _you're_ there." And, as oblivious as ever, she took his insult as a compliment.

"Oh! How sweet of you! Yes, I know, I _am_ amazingly beautiful," she said excitedly, giving her Heal staff a twirl. "My beauty should be a crime, don't you think? I mean, the way you fell down like that! At this rate, there'll be no boys left on Elibe!" He sighed. Here we go again.

"Serra," he said, trying to squirm away. "Please let go of my arm. I believe you're suffocating it."

"Okay, okay, fine, Mr. Frumpy-face," she said carelessly, but didn't let go. In fact, she clutched it even tighter, if anything. "So, Erky, did you miss me? I bet you did. Of course you did! Who wouldn't? I mean, with _my_ beauty, who wouldn't want to be around _me_?" He glanced around, desperately looking for help. No such luck. The only person watching them was Matthew, and he was currently leaning against a tree, face red, laughing. At him.

Thanks, Matthew.

"Oh!!" Serra squealed abruptly, noticing the thief. "Maaaaatth. . .yooo! Matthew!! Hey, Matthew!" Erk watched him straighten up suddenly and prepare to bolt away, but as is everyone else, he was too slow for her.

"Hey. Where are you going? Come on. Over here, over here!" Really, the "over here" was completely unnecessary, seeing as how Serra tightly grasped—thank Elimine that it wasn't his; it was turning purple—Matthew's arm.

"Remember what Lord Hector said?" she squealed. "Remember?? Lord Hector said you have to stay by my side, no matter what, right? I am a sweet, helpless little cleric. . .You have to protect me!"

"_Protect_ you?" said Matthew, apparently horror-struck at the idea of having to stay by her side constantly. "But I'm a Thief! I don't get into brawls. . ." Naturally, Serra completely disregarded him.

"That's fine! I can heal you if you get hurt! So come on, don't be shy. . .right over here!"

"Bloody woman, I _am_ already over here, no thanks to your iron-grip. . ." he muttered, wincing. Erk felt quite sorry for him now, despite him laughing earlier. "You know, I've been wondering about this a while. . .But. . .are you really one of Elimine's Clerics? Are you sure you're not actually the follower of some dark, evil god?" Matthew said many things that Erk did not see eye to eye, but this he had to agree to.

"That was very, very, very mean, Matthew! Are you trying to hurt my tender feelings?"

". . .Hmm. Tender. Right. Let's get going," he said, grumpily walking by her side. The dark forest seemed to close around them, adding to the gloomy mood of the scene. ". . .Blimey, I should have jumped into the sea when I had the chance. . ."

_Well, there goes _my_ nuisance. . ._, Erk noted dully as he watched them go, arm in arm.

* * *

"_What_ did I tell you?" said the Wyvern Lord haughtily, causing the Wyvern Rider to scowl. "I told you they'd be here. We could have caught up with them faster if it weren't for you. I should have just left you in Bern." At this, the rider gave a subtle smirk.

"Except that I'm the only one Queen Hellene and Prince Zephiel allowed to go, and you need all the help you can get, yes. You should have _definitely_ abandoned me." His smirk grew wider as it was the other's turn to scowl. Silence momentarily stretched over the two.

". . .They're pretty slow, huh?" the rider went on, running a hand through his crimson hair. "Four days and they still haven't gone over the mountains." The other threw him an exasperated look.

"Not everyone has a wyvern; they can't travel as fast us," he rebuked. "You should not be so arrogant to judge others like that."

"Arrogant? _Me_?" the rider answered, feigning a scandalized tone. "Heh, you happen to be speaking to the cousin of the future king of Bern. Yes, commander, I'm bloody arrogant."

". . ."

". . ."

* * *

"Wyvern riders!" Hector hissed suddenly, looking at the sky behind them. "Wyvern riders!!" he bellowed this time, loud enough for the whole army to hear. "Get ready!!"

"Wyvern riders?" asked Rai calmly, only mildly surprised. "Here? Huh. That's unusual. Everyone! Prepare for an attack!"

* * *

"Commander?" asked the Wyvern Rider skeptically, squinting down at the tiny moving dots. "Are they assuming _battle_ positions?"

"Indeed they are," casually answered the lord. "They've spotted us."

Nervously, "I hope they don't have any Archers." Seeing as how wyvern riders are also flying units, arrows were deadly to them unless they had a Delphi's Shield. Which they didn't.

"Most likely they don't, but you never know."

"Commander! That wasn't funny!!"

"I wasn't joking."

* * *

_Wyvern riders of Bern_. . .Priscilla thought with a pang in her heart.

Heath. . .

Her heart clutched painfully.

_I _have_ to fight, no matter how much they remind me of him_, she repeated to herself. _I must. They are enemies, regardless of their steeds. . ._

She tightened her grip on her Fire tome.

_I must be strong. For _him

* * *

"Maybe I should scout first," the rider suggested. The lord shook his head heavily.

"No. You'll only get yourself killed."

"If we go both at the same time," the rider argued, undaunted, "we'll get us _both_ killed! Let me go, commander. At least it'll be only one of us."

"No!" came the sharp reply. The red-haired Wyvern Rider cringed noticeably. The fierceness in his commander's tone was clear, and unusual. "No. You are a cousin of the crown prince. I. . .I am nothing. A nobody. I am naught but a deserter from the Bern's wyvern riders. It was a miracle that I got out of Biran, unscathed and alive. I will not let you get killed, do you hear?"

". . ."

He glanced at his commander, sympathy and pity in his eyes, but he obeyed and cruised lazily along.

* * *

"Wyvern riders are strong, but they have a major flaw," Rai said as she positioned her magic troops in the lead. Priscilla was in the very front, seeing as how she was easily the strongest of all her magic users. "Well, two, technically, if you count the arrow thing. They have unbelievably low resistance to magic, especially compared to their stout defense.

"If you get hurt, Serra will heal you. We'll finish them off in no time," she encouraged Priscilla, Erk, Lucius, and Nino. "Hector and Eliwood! I trust you to eliminate them if they should somehow miraculously survive. Let's go!"

* * *

The rider strained to see. The frontal lines. . .they were not warriors.

"They have magic users in the front," he announced as the Wyvern Lord gave a jolt of surprise.

"Magic users?" he echoed promptly. "Do you. . .do you see a Valkerie?" The redhead squinted again.

"No. . .yes. . .actually, it's kind of hard to tell—even with my eyesight—but I'm pretty sure," he decided. 'This is even more dangerous than I had first thought. . .' he added privately.

"Slower," the commander ordered. "We don't want to appear as a threat."

"It doesn't really matter whether we go fast or slow, because they'll kill us anyway, but as you say, commander. I'll proudly fly into my death in your order!"

"Shut up and obey."

"As I've said, yes sir."

* * *

"They're getting closer," Nino breathed, almost fearfully. But she wasn't afraid; Jaffar stood behind her. His mere presence strengthened and fortified her. A most curious effect. It was useful, nevertheless. Whenever her heart failed, she turned to the ex- Angel of Death. Almost anyone else would have fainted in his company, but for her, it was different. He was reassuring. He was like a fort to her, protective and inspiring.

". . ." A man of few words, as usual.

"I-I don't want to fail them," she confessed. She felt his hand on her shoulder.

". . .You won't." _Remember, I've witnessed your strength first-hand_, he added silently. _You are strong. . .you'll not fail._ She nodded, almost as if she had heard him.

'Jaffar. . .I'm thankful that you're with me.'

* * *

"I can't take this. I won't get both of us killed, commander!" The Wyvern Rider suddenly fished out a vial from his traveling sack and drunk out of it. The lord raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Pure Water," he mumbled through hurried gulps. The lord halted for a split second, confused.

". . .WHAT?!" he exploded, the rider's intentions finally dawning on him. "Stop right there—"

Too late.

The Wyvern Rider raced off, charging toward Rai's troops alone.

"Fool—!!" the Wyvern Lord gasped as he did a double take. He then kicked for his wyvern to go faster, tightly clasping the reins. "Hurry up! That idiot's going to kill himself—make haste!"

* * *

"They've picked up speed!" Priscilla cried to no one in particular. She felt the atmosphere surrounding her grow noticeably tense. As the two flying specks approached, she could just barely make out the red hair of the first Wyvern Rider. She chanted the spell under her breath, getting ready for the big clash. She could feel the power flowing through her—yes. This one was going to be deadly.

_Heath. . .this is for you!_

---

The Wyvern Rider gained speed as he flew, and the distant dots became clearer and clearer.

Yes, his superior eyesight had not failed him. Indeed there was a Valkerie in the front. As he approached, he could see a strong red glow on her hands. The sign of an upcoming critical magic attack.

"Ah!" the rider cried as he sped toward the troop, his surroundings blurry. He had drank Pure Water—which reduces damage from magic attacks somewhat—just in case, but from her stance and the strength of the glow, he could tell that this attack was going to be one hell of an attack. _This_ was an unpleasant twist that he did not expect.

"Slow down, slow down!!" He yanked on the reins, but his wyvern was speeding too fast to decelerate immediately. One-handedly he fumbled for the vial and took another haste gulp from it, out of sheer desperation. He could see the Valkerie's face—too close!

"Co-commander Heath—!! Stay back—"

---

"_Fire_!" Priscilla cried, completing the spell. She heard the rider call out, but she was too occupied with seeing that the fireball landed on its mark to care.

"Yes!!" she heard Rai exclaim as the Wyvern Rider plummeted down toward the ground, unconscious and wrapped in a blanket of fire. She quickly recited the spell again, getting ready for yet another assault. That was when she spotted the unique hairstyle of the approaching Wyvern Lord. Details rushed into her brain—it was a familiar face, one that she so longed to see.

Too late her mind put together the cry of the Wyvern Rider and the Wyvern Lord.

"S-saint Elimine!" she exclaimed, realizing her mistake. She waved her hands frantically back at her fellow magic users, who were about to follow her suit. "Stop—stop!! That's. . .that's _Heath_!!"

* * *

". . ."

"Heath. . .I. . .I truly apologize. Had I known that he was with you—"

Wyvern lord Heath put a hand on Priscilla's arm. They were in a tent, with the bandaged Wyvern Rider laying on a makeshift bed, still out cold. "I know. You would have never attacked him. It was his fault, really. He raced off when I specifically told him not to."

"Heath. . ." The Valkerie's eyes welled with tears. She had hurt her love's comrade. She would never forgive herself.

"Shh. . .I told you. It's alright. He's not dead."

"But—"

Heath raised a hand to stop her. "Peace, dear Priscilla. He's not dead. That's all that matters." A slow nod. "By the way, how's his wyvern?" The secluded princess of Cornwell managed a small smile through her tears.

"Well. . .he's got some burns on him, but at least he hasn't eaten too much." Heath laughed gratefully.

"Ha ha! I suppose you're remembering the time when Hyperion stole from Merlinus's supply?" he recalled, his gray eyes soft and wistful. Back in the day. . .has it really been only a year? It seemed like an eternity. It was when he first joined Rai's troop; when he'd had his first conversation with Priscilla. Hyperion wouldn't fly, and Priscilla told him that his wyvern had probably eaten too much. . .back then, everything was so peaceful between the two. He had been safe—somewhat—from bounty hunters from Bern. He used to see her every day. . .he used to talk to her, get his wounds mended, and fall in love with her. . .

Everything seemed so far away, and so dreamlike. He was on the run, and she was back in Etruria. But now. . .

"H-heath. . ." she murmured, her eyes cloudy. He supposed that she was thinking along the same lines, remembering what it all had been like back a year.

"I know," he cleared his throat. The two stared in silence. _How beautiful she looks,_ he thought, _even with her face marred by tears._ . .Unable to resist any father, he drew her close to him and wrapped his arms tightly around her. "I missed you too. The time at the feast had been far too short. . ."

"I. . .oh, Heath. . ." She returned the embrace, tears of longing flowing freely from her eyes.

---

Rai scratched her head absentmindedly as she sat on a log near the temporary tent. Her troops were all near her, dispersed around here and there. "We should probably stop here for the night. . ." She looked up to see Erk's unhappy expression.

"Why the gloomy face, Erk?" The purple-haired Mage started.

"Oh. . .Rai. It's. . .nothing," he said. It was plain as day that he was lying.

"We have two more to fight for us now! More protection—be happy!" she said, smiling. She was right. With the addition of the two wyvern warriors, they were not as vulnerable from air-assaults now.

"Right. . .happy. . ." Erk repeated ungraciously. He turned even more incredibly moody when Heath and Priscilla came out of the tent, the blasted Wyvern Lord's arm around the precious lady. Strategist Rai bounded up at once, forgetting about _him_ (as everyone was so fond of doing lately) and bombarded them with questions.

"What did you say that his name was?" To Heath, of course.

"Zell. Zell of Biran," he answered. For some unknown reason, Priscilla beamed proudly up at him, which made the Mage sick in the stomach. Her smile, it was just so. . ._adoring_. Like he had just completed an unbelievably heroic deed or something. Honestly, what was so splendid and outstanding about answering a simple inquiry? It was a reply to an uncomplicated question, m'lady. There's nothing special about _that_. Unlike magic, of course, as she should already know. Magic was so remarkably difficult, yet amazing, and so—

"Right. And I vaguely seem to recall you commenting briefly on his relation to Prince Zephiel. . .?"

"He's a cousin of the prince," Heath replied. "He may be a royalty, but he will prove to be an excellent addition to the troop. He'll follow whatever his superior says, despite his commander's blood heritage," he added quickly, noticing Rai's skeptical sniff. _Usually_, he added mentally.

"Uh-huh. Yes. And I also remember something about _you_ going into _Bern_ to _personally_ fetch him. . ." the tactician trailed off, glaring at the wyvern lord suspiciously, "when you happen to be a _fugitive_ from Bern. . ."

"Ah. . .well. . .yes, but—" Heath replied uncomfortably, noticing both Priscilla's and Rai's thunderstruck expressions.

"How could you, Heath?!" the red-haired valkerie exploded, cutting him off. "Did you ever think about _me_, when you were going to Bern without telling me? How I would feel? What if you had been captured, tortured, beaten, and never to return to me—and how heartbroken I will be? Have you ever thought about that, Heath?! What if the king hanged you for treason? Oh, Heath—you fool!" The tactician spoke no word, yet anger was clearly present in her eyes. Erk arched an eyebrow, expecting a titanic clash—well, more like a major beatdown on Rai's part—to take place soon.

"Please," Heath pleaded, "listen to me, you two." The two ladies regarded him coolly.

"This quest, however small and quick it might be, I still had a lingering feeling that more protection would prove useful soon," he explained hurriedly. "So I went to the only source I knew. . Biran's wyvern riders. The plan was to go to Queen Hellene directly and ask for assistance—" he saw the horrified expressions on their faces "—since I knew that she had not yet forgotten Lord Eliwood's critical role in stopping Prince Zephiel's attempted assassination. And it did work, although not as well as I would have liked. Fearing King Desmond's anger, Queen Hellene agreed to lend a helping hand, under one condition—she could only offer what others freely gave. I was to take only volunteers. Zell was the only one who did. Prince Zephiel did not wish for his cousin to leave, yet Zell was firm about it. He told me that he could not leave a fellow Biran rider in trouble, fugitive or not. After much arguments, Queen Hellene agreed. She gave us some treasures, but that was all other she could offer, lest it aroused the king's suspicions—he still doesn't trust her fully, she told me. Which reminds me. . ." He reached into his travel bag and drew out several gleaming jewels.

"Three Red Gems. An offering from Her Highness of Biran. She hopes that it will be useful to you, however little it might be," he said as he handed Rai the sparkling crimson stones. She appeared stunned as she reached for them. "She also apologies for not being much of a help."

"I. . .I don't know what to say," she said in an awed voice. "I am honored. Thank you. . ." Silent momentarily settled over while she stood there, basking in wonder. Only when Heath cleared his throat lightly did she snap out of her dreamy state.

"And, um, everyone. As I was saying before, we should probably stop here for the night. Yes, yes, I know, it's barely afternoon and all, but with—Lord Zell? Just Zell. Ah. Thank you, Heath—Zell in his state, I'm afraid we cannot further pursue our target, not until he at least wakes up. Let's set up tents and get a fire going for meals."

* * *

"La, la. . .la la la. . .La la la, laa. . .la. . ." Serra hummed as she gathered shriveled twigs for firewood. Once every fifteen seconds or so, she would straighten up and complain about what hard work Hector made her do.

"Honestly, what does he think I am, a work mule?" she would whine. "Sending a fragile and tender woman such as myself to gather logs for fire. . .I mean, I know I am beautiful and every man love me so, but that's no reason to make excuses and seclude me so that he'll have me all to himself! Lord Hector is completely tactless. . .if he wants my love, then instead of going around, he should take the shortcut, and just come out and tell me how he feels!" was one of her favorite topics to complain about, among many other things.

And she also did not like the way Erk was being such a grouch all of a sudden. It all started after Heath arrived with that new recruit named Zell. Ooh, Zell. . .He was all bandaged up right now, but before they (her and Priscilla) did so, she could tell that he was quite attractive. He had short blood-red hair like a blazing crimson flame and a set of fierce amber eyes that matched his wyvern's (they checked his eyes for consciousness/damages).

Wait, wait! She was getting off-topic. Erky was being so mean! He was being such a grouch all of a sudden! (Had she already said that?) He yelled his head off at her for delicately telling him to come and protect her (seeing as how Matthew ran off and hid somewhere—she was SO going to tell Hector on him!!)! And he yelled at her _again_ when she accidentally (honest!) tripped him so that he landed facedown in front of Heath and Priscilla, who were going to go for a walk! It's not like she _meant_ to do it! She said sorry (in a very bouncy tone) but nooo, he just screamed at her some more! He only stopped shrieking at her only when Priscilla asked him what was wrong. Perfect, gorgeous, _Valkerie_ Pricilla. All guys falling left-and-right Priscilla. Quiet, dignified _Priscilla_, who was so unlike Cleric _Serra_, loudmouthed and annoying.

It's not like she didn't know what others talked about behind her back. Everyone hated her, she knew. Erk, too. He was no different. He. . .

". . ."

She straightened up.

Why did he hate her so much? She was beautiful, graceful, shapely, plus, she was an Elimine Cleric! What was there to hate?

_You're not perfect_, whispered a voice inside her head nastily. _You're not faultless and peaceable like Priscilla. Remember what others said? Remember. . .?_

_Why can't Serra be more like Priscilla?_

_Oh! Priscilla! How gorgeous you look today!_

_I knew that I could count on you, Priscilla. You're an excellent healer as well as an outstanding mage._

_Excellent as usual, Lady Priscilla! You've already mastered the Thunder. We can move to Elfire next._

_Serra! Pay attention! You won't be able to become a Bishop if you wander off like that!_

_Leave me alone. I don't want you around here._

_You are a frustrating woman. . .do you ever shut your mouth?_

". . .Sniff. . ." _How embarrassing._ She quickly wiped away the tear that was rolling down her cheek. So what if others weren't so nice to her as they were to Priscilla? It was their loss!

There was a sudden rustle in the bushes. Serra whirled around quickly, dropping what little twigs she had gathered. She cautiously picked up a rock—she couldn't use Light magic yet—with a shaking hand.

_It's probably just an animal. . .I'm being so paranoid_, she thought when the noises stopped. She gave a nervous laugh. All that edginess around the camp must be getting to her! Her feeble giggling hitched in her throat and died away when the crunching came again.

"W-who's there?" she called, uneasiness showing through the quivering of her voice. "I'm-I'm armed! I'm warning you, I'm dangerous!"

_There it is again_, she couldn't help but think fearfully. _It's getting louder—!_

"I warned you. . .I'll. . .I'll hurt you!"

Silence.

The noises—right behind her!!

She whirled around.

"Eeeeeee!!! Eeeeeeeeee!!!!" she shrieked loudly and dropped the rock in surprise. There was a leafy monster, heading straight for her!

"My vision of delight—" While the monster jumbled nonsense, Serra wasted no time picking up the rock again. This time—

"My ange—(thuck)—aah!!" Bull's eye! She watched in satisfaction as it slid down onto the forest floor, unconscious.

"Sain—SAIN!!" bellowed a voice. She picked up the rock again, preparing to launch once more, but her hand hung limply in air as a familiar face poked out of the woods.

"S-sir Kent?" she stammered, lowering her hand. The carrot-haired cavalier burst forth, bending over the fallen monster. She was thoroughly confused. _Sain. . .?_

"Lady Lyndis! Over here!" he called, completely ignoring her. A teal-haired woman in Sacaen dressing emerged from the depths of the trees, barely giving Serra a glance. Kent regarded the newcomer grimly. "Looks like he has a minor head injury, but he should be fine. Of course, he might suffer from a brain damage or such. . ."

"With Sain," the woman sighed as she too, bent over the lifeless figure, "you wouldn't be able to tell."

"Lyn. . .? Sir Kent. . .?" The two flinched, just noticing that Serra was there. The Sacaen noblewoman tried to smile.

"Serra. Didn't see you there," she said, attempting to appear friendly, but sounding grim and tightlipped instead. "Sorry. I was worried about Sain."

"Sain? You mean that green thing. . .?" Serra gasped. Kent nodded bleakly. She gasped again. She had just nearly killed Sain!!

"How did _that_ happen?!" she shrieked. The two cringed again.

"Well. . ." Lyn started, "Sain thought it safer if we had a scout, so he volunteered. Apparently, he fell into a mud hole, couldn't see a thing so he ran through low branches, getting green leaves all over himself, heard you here and came to talk to you. Evidently he didn't realize how. . .bad. . .he looked. My apologies for giving you such a fright." Serra nodded quickly, her heart still hammering.

"It's fine, Lyn. It's just that I—"

"SERRA, you blasted woman! You had better not be playing jokes again!!" called a powerful voice. All eyes rushed toward the direction. There were sounds of trees being torn down.

It was Hector, who was still _slightly_ angry from last night. Lyn and Kent looked puzzled, while Serra let out a low whimper. She was _so_ going to die! He must have heard her screaming and came looking for her. . .and he didn't sound too happy about it, either!

"SERRA—" An armored Hector materialized. At the same time, from the exact opposite direction from him, Wil the Archer came rushing out of the forest.

"Milady—eeeaahhh!!!" Wil cried as Hector picked him up blindly and started to swing the poor archer over his head. "Aaee-aaa-aaa-aaah!!"

"_I thought I told you not to get in_—" Everyone stood with their eyes wide open, petrified for a brief moment, but then the Sacaen woman snapped back to her senses.

"Hector!" Lyn interjected loudly. "I would appreciate it if you would kindly put my vassal down!" Hector froze in mid-twirl of the green archer then glanced slowly down at her. His expression turned from anger, bewilderment (longing, too, perhaps?), then back to anger again.

"Lyn. . .?" the Great Lord asked, dumbfounded, as his hands gradually fell to his sides. (Wil dropped onto the ground with an "Aaaiie!" and a loud thud) "What are you. . .doing _here_?" The last time he saw her was her leaving with Kent, Sain, and Wil back to Caelin. What was going on?

"I came back," she replied simply, helping the very dizzy archer up. "I changed my mind." Hector's blue eyebrows twitched. That was never a good sign. Lyn, apparently not detecting anything, went on to ask Wil about any injuries. His mouth opened furiously to argue with her, but when he saw the state both Sain (it was kind of hard to tell; that's why it took so long for him to notice) and Wil (whom he thought was an enemy so he went head-on, without axes or swords or whatever) were in, he changed his inquiry halfway through.

"I'll have a talk with you later," he said gruffly, swallowing his angry words back. He glanced at the two injured vassals of Caelin. "First, let's get these two back to the tents." And so they went, dragging and supporting the two injured units toward the camp.

---

_**Evening**_

_The sky is constant, no matter where you are on Elibe_, Lyn thought wistfully as she gazed up at the star-filled heaven. Night breeze swept through her, somehow squeezing between the tight spaces of the thick trees. _But nothing can surpass lying on the Sacaen plains, breathing the gentle scent of Mother Earth, feeling the wind blowing across you as you stare up at the sky. . ._

The faint song of her beloved plains reached out to her, even though she was a great distance away from it. The land of her ancestors. . .the land of her birthplace. . .the land that her mother loved. . .

She was so, so far away from it all. She had been, for the past year. Her time with her grandfather was happy, but there always was an unfilled spot in her heart, where the Sacaen plains used to be. An empty place, one that could be never fulfilled in Caelin. Yet, Caelin was yet another home to her. Her mother was from it, originally. Lyn herself had dwelt there with her grandfather for a year now.

She strove to become a true Lycian noblewoman, all for the sake of her grandfather. But two years ago, back when she had not yet known about her true heritage, she had despised all Lycian nobles, back when her father and mother were still with her. And that part still lingered, despite all the lessons on how to become a proper lady. She struggled to become a princess of Caelin, yet she despised herself for it. She was confused, so confused. . .everything in her life was so bewildering to her now, even her own identity. Who was she? A Lycian or a Sacaen? A nobility or a plainsdweller? Where did she belong?

Where was her home? The busy, bustling Castle Caelin or the silent, windswept plains of Sacae?

Who was she?

"Lyn."

A voice cut through her thoughts. She whirled around. Hector's solemn face jumped out at her. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Hector. . ." she replied with as much sharpness as she could muster, quickly regaining her composure. She crossed her arms stubbornly, trying to cover up her embarrassment. "Why have you called me out here alone, this late? I hope this is important; I am tired, and crave for some decent rest."

"It might be of no meaning to you," Hector replied gravely, "but it is of great meaning to me. Tell me the truth." There was a pause.

Lyn furrowed her eyebrows together. ". . .Yes?" He cleared his throat, as if feeling self-conscious to be speaking with her like this.

"Why have you come back?" _Will you say that it was because of me? _Hector wanted to ask._ But most likely it was your sense of responsibility. Lyn, can't you see? There are more important things than fighting and duties. . ._ He, of course, knew better than to say it out loud.

The noblewoman regarded him with a questioning look. Was this Hector's idea of a bad joke? "I couldn't abandon my friends, especially when they were going on a dangerous quest."

". . ." He merely gazed at her, and their eyes met for a split second. As short as it was, the moment seemed to go on forever in Lyn's mind. She felt as though she were drowning in those pair of blue, blue pools. They were sucking her in, unwilling to let go. Their clutches. . .as powerful as Hector himself. . . In that brief moment, she realized.

She missed the days where everything was so simple for her, her sole aim in life to defeat Nergal. There had been no time to ponder on her identity, no time to get miserable, no time to be confused.

She missed the battles. She missed fighting by his side. She missed his determined presence in her fighting days, the good old days that could never come back.

She missed it all.

"Ex-excuse me," she murmured as she barely managed to tear her gaze away from him. "I apologize for cutting this short, but I must get some sleep. . ." Without another word, she turned. As tired as she was, she half-wanted him to stop him, to talk to him all night as the two reminisced when their paths were one. But he didn't. She didn't hear him move, not even after she went back to her tent and changed into her nightclothes. She laid in her bed and tried to fall asleep, but found that she couldn't. Her brain was swimming with her own thoughts, which ran through her head like a rapid unwilling to be tamed.

All her thoughts were jumbled and mixed together save for one. The image of Hector's eyes blazed vividly amidst all the mess.

She shut her eyes tightly, and willed for it go away. But the picture had a mind of its own, and it continued to linger on.

She remained awake for a long, long time, unable to fall asleep.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Uh. . . .the winter break completely threw me off-track. Sorry for taking so long! And yes, I realize that a lot of things are crammed in here together, but it was really critical for the plot for me to put it all in. I apologize for the crappy-ness, too! –jumps off a cliff-

Wistful-Eyes: _Grraarl. I suck at action X.X_

XxMastaFreakxX: _Thank you! And yes, that moment is one of my favorites too._

Drizzt Do'Urden (For Ch. 1): _Thank you. . .Yes, details are crucial, no? (XD)_

AxelWildfire000: _Thank you! But yeah. . .but I think my pathetic romance pieces are what's driving my future reviewers-to-be away (XD)_

Katelynn: _Thank you! Yeah, poor Erk. . ._

Bomber the Scoto Fox: _Really? I thought the enemies sounded like some arrogant idiots who were just being stupid. . .(well, one of them, at least) Thank you for your review!_

P.S. –bangs head on keyboard continually. . .- This. . .is awful. . .


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